Pancakes
by MagikofDeduction
Summary: Dean's fiance passed away three years ago, leaving him alone with their daughter Mary. Everyone wants him to move on, without knowing how truly lonely Dean is. Can he move on? Can this blue eyed stranger who Mary keeps calling an angel help him? Hopefully, before Dean crumbles completely under the memories...
1. Chapter 1

**Dean's fiance, Lisa, died three years ago in a car crash, leaving him alone with their daughter Mary. Everyone wants him to move on, but can he? It's hard to let go of the past, especially when it seems to be hanging everywhere. Despite their efforts, Sam doesn't even know how close to the breaking point Dean truly is. Can a blue eyed man who Mary keeps calling an angel help him?**

**That's the story.**

**Later, there may be rated M chapters. Those will be marked, so keep an eye out for: "Rated: M!" at the top. Thank you~**

* * *

Sam glanced at his brother.

"How've you guys been doing?"

Dean glanced back.

"Fine. Good, Sammy."

Sam nodded a bit.

"Yeah? Good."

Dean sighed as he took a sip from his bottle of water, eyes tracking Mary attempting to climb the jungle gym.

"Just say it."

Sam shook his head.

"I'm not going to push it. It's just… it's been three years, Dean. You've done a lot better than Dad had, but… I'm just worried. For both of you."

Dean's jaw clenched.

"Do we have to bring up Dad, Sammy?"

Sam sighed, shifting some chestnut colored hair out of his face. He took a drink, also, his wedding band glinting, and Dean felt a small amount of happiness just looking at it.

"Sorry, I know. Just… don't you think it's time—"

"Mary!" Dean's short bark made Sam jump and Dean was suddenly off of the bench, stomping across the park. Sam's eyes followed him and saw Mary, the small five year old, staring up and talking to another man who, oddly, was wearing a trench coat. Sam debated for a moment but decided to stay where he was for now, watching it play out. Dean's temper had gotten better over the years, but once he'd had Mary and especially after her mother died, anything could set him off when it came to her.

Sam watched nervously, taking another sip of water and telepathically sending a message to his wife, Jessica. _When we have a kid… Don't let Dean take her to the park._

* * *

Mary turned to her dad once he was only a few feet away and grinned, flying to him.

"Daddy, look! I found an angel! He fell from Heaven, he's an angel, daddy!"

Dean ignored her, pulling her close to his leg protectively. Feeling the anger radiating off of her dad, Mary fell silent, clinging to his jean leg.

"Who're you?" Dean sneered. The man's eyes flickered to him, and unbidden, Dean's breath caught. They were the most strikingly deep blue he'd ever seen, and they probed him, almost looking through him.

"I am Castiel. And I am not an angel. I… don't know why she keeps calling me that."

Dean blinked and crossed his arms, observing the rest of the man. He was about his height, maybe an inch shorter, with messy, jet-black hair and wearing a business suit under a trench coat, clutching a suitcase.

"Because he's an angel, Daddy!" Mary shouted, quickly shushed.

Dean didn't take his eyes off the other man for a second.

"Why're you here?" He hadn't seen a kid around the man, and he didn't exactly look the father type, anyhow.

"This is the easiest path to my home from work," the man, 'Castiel', answered, his eyes finally lighting up in realization, "I mean no harm, I assure you. I will leave right now and find another route home, if you prefer it."

Dean eyed the man. He didn't sound like a pedophile—then again, what did they sound like? But this guy sounded like an English professor or something.

"What do you do?" Dean couldn't stop from asking, and immediately wanted to kick himself as the man tilted his head curiously.

"I am an English and Latin Major. I write articles and give lectures over their origins and developments over time."

"Huh," Dean grunted a bit, feeling like a caveman in comparison.

"What do you do?" Castiel asked, head still tilted. Dean shifted uncomfortably.

"Erm… I own a garage a few blocks from here…" Dean faltered.

"Do you enjoy it?"

Dean blinked in surprise at the weird question.

"Er… well, yeah. I like cars…" he shrugged. Castiel smiled.

"That's good. It's difficult to find work that you enjoy. You should keep doing it."

Dean nodded a bit.

"Yeah… So, what's up with the trench coat? No offense, but it's not exactly the best thing to wear around a park."

Castiel looked down at himself, as if just realizing he was wearing the beige tax accountant coat. He looked up at Dean and observed him back, eyes trailing his body for a moment, which made Dean suppress a shiver.

"I like this coat," he answered simply, "My brother gave it to me, shortly before he passed."

Dean's eyes softened.

"Oh… sorry…"

Castiel smiled.

"It's fine. I must go now. Is it still safe to come through here on my way home?"

Dean hesitated, before realizing Castiel was teasing him, blue eyes dancing. Dean laughed a bit.

"Yeah, I guess," he answered with a tough shrug, making Castiel chuckled a little. They stared at each other for a moment, and Dean found himself drowning in those eyes before Castiel gave a small smile and nodded.

"Goodbye."

Dean realized the guy was leaving and jumped suddenly.

"Oh! Wait!"

Castiel turned to him in surprise, and Dean swallowed.

"My name's Dean, by the way. Dean Winchester," he told him, holding out a hand. Castiel looked at it for a second before taking it in his own smooth one, fingers grazing over Dean's calloused palm.

"'Winchester's Sons Garage'," Castiel spoke, eyes dancing, "You're very popular." He dropped his hand, adjusting his brief case. Cas tilted his head.

"Perhaps, if it's alright, I'll stop by…?" he asked curiously, carefully. Dean blinked and grinned.

"Yeah, sure. Maybe I can get you a discount," he told him, and automatically wanted to kick himself. '_Discount'? Seriously?_ Castiel smiled.

"Right. Thank you. Goodbye… Dean Winchester."

The sound of his name coming from that deep, gravelly tone shuddered his spine, and this time, Dean watched Castiel walk for a moment before turning away. He saw Mary on the jungle gym again, having left during the boring adult talk, and let himself sigh in relief before walking back towards the bench where Sam sat waiting for him.

Sam stared at his brother. It wasn't like he was blind, or an idiot. He could practically hear the conversation just from their body language and facial expressions. So when Dean sat down next to him, a small frown on his face, Sam spread his hands out.

"Dude," he said seriously, staring, "Tell me you got his number."

Dean's neck and face flushed and he looked at Sam like he was crazy.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Sam laughed.

"Dude, you were totally into each other! Just tell me he's not actually a creep."

Dean rolled his eyes.

"No, he's not," he started, and pointed an accusing finger at Sam, "And no, we weren't."

Sam rolled his eyes.

"Like hell. I'm not blind. Anyone within a five mile radius could see the attraction between you two." When Dean didn't respond, Sam sighed, "Did you get his name, at least?"

Dean nodded slowly, staring at his water bottle.

"Yeah. Castiel." He raised the bottle to his lips, "Some weird ass name, if you ask me. Mary kept calling him an angel." He glanced over when Sam snickered, "What?"

"You _are_ aware that 'Castiel' is an angel's name from the Bible, right?"

Dean spluttered.

"What? How the hell would she know that? You've gotta stop giving her so many books, I swear."

Sam laughed and shrugged.

"She likes to read. That's hard to find in kids, so milk it while you can."

Dean sighed.

"Yeah, I guess."

It was silent for a moment, a comfortable silence, before Sam broke it.

"So… was he hot?"

"Bite me."

* * *

Lisa, Dean's fiancé and Mary's mother, died three years ago in a car crash. He could still remember the day—though he never remembered it on purpose. Mary had been only two then, so she hadn't really known what was going on, just that her mommy was gone and her daddy was sad, so she'd cried with him that night, too. The first year people had given him a break, letting him live quietly and sadly with Mary, though they all offered help any way they could. It was nearing the end of the third year, though, and Sammy had been pushing Dean to find someone knew—everyone had, in fact.

Dean brushed them all off, denying that he needed help, or simply that he was lonely. Mary had adapted surprisingly well to Dean being the only one to look after her, though sometimes Jo, a family friend, or Sammy babysat her when Dean went out with friends (which wasn't a lot of times) or had had a long day and wanted to get to sleep early (which was a lot of the times, more than anyone knew about).

Sam took Mary with him, and Dean gave her a hug and goodbye before waving off Sammy's knowing smirk. He watched them leave before climbing into the car and heading back towards the shop. Everyone made fun of him for the minivan, but since Lisa had died, he hadn't been able to drive the Impala; it wasn't exactly the safest car to drive a small kid around in.

When he arrived, the garage door was open and Bobby was there, shifting through some tools. From the back, Jo appeared and caught sight of Dean jumping out of the van, closing and locking it. She grinned as he approached, a streak of grease on her face.

"So what's this about a new boyfriend?"

Dean groaned and Bobby whipped around, eyes wide.

"What?" the old man demanded, but Dean waved him off, face heating up.

"Nothing, Bobby. Just Sam being an idiot."

Jo smirked, not taking her eyes off Dean as she explained to Bobby,

"Apparently he met a guy at the park and was doing some hard flirting."

Dean's face burned.

"I was not! Can we just get to work already?" he grumbled.

Jo rolled her eyes.

"Fine, whatever, Mr. Bossy." She disappeared inside, and Dean sighed in relief, moving over to his own tool bench to begin working on the car they'd been fixing up for the past two days.

"I know the kid gets on your nerves sometimes," Bobby started lowly, motioning to where Jo had went, "But she's got a point, son. You've gotta get out there eventually. The baby'll be fine. Hell, it might do her some good. Get away from you and that moose every once in a while."

Dean shook his head, tossing a wrench to the side.

"I dunno, Bobby," he started, "Just… it's just too much, you know? There's too much going on right now to deal with something… like that." The man's eyes popped into his mind, but he violently shoved the thought away.

"Whatever you say, boy," Bobby admonished, "Just do what you think's best. We all just want the best for y'all."

"I know, Bobby. Thanks."

Bobby clapped his hands together.

"Alright, enough with this chick-flick crap. Only a few more tweaks to go and this baby'll be out on the road."

* * *

By the time Dean arrived at Sam's, his hands had a few cuts, his feet hurt, and every bone in his body seemed to pound in rhythm, trying to bust through his skin. They'd had another flood of people in today, and even more cars, of course on the day they were short-staffed. Dean had been so busy that he almost hadn't thought about the blue eyed man until he was leaving and realized that he hadn't seen him again. The tiredness quickly swept the thought away as he pulled up into Sam's driveway, stepping out of the car and trudging up to the front door.

He gave a small knock, rubbing his eyes with one hand, when the door opened to Sam, a sleeping Mary cradled in one arm as he held the door open with the other. Sam's eyes widened at the sight of him.

"Holy crap, man, you look terrible."

"Thanks," Dean drawled, and reached out for Mary. The small blonde clung to his neck immediately as he hoisted her small, warm body against his chest, smiling a bit. Sam handed him her backpack, watching his brother carefully.

"Are you sure you don't want us to keep her overnight? Jess has to work early but I can drop her off—"

Dean was already shaking his head.

"Nah, man, I've got her. Thanks."

Sam nodded a bit uncertainly, but he knew better than to push.

"Alright, Dean. Call if you need anything."

Dean's jaw clenched a bit.

"Yeah. Thanks, Sam."

Dean turned and began the trudge back to the car, hearing the door shut quietly behind him. He knew that everyone was just trying to help, but he hated when Sam or anyone else implied that he couldn't take care of Mary on his own. He'd been doing it for three years, damnit. You'd think people would trust him with her by now.

Dean opened the back car door and laid the small pink backpack on the floorboards before shifting Mary in his arms and lifting her to place her in the car seat. She gave a small whine but didn't open her eyes as he buckled her in, her head slumping against the back of the seat, cheeks pink and long eyelashes lined up against her cheeks. Dean brushed some of her long blonde hair away from her face, staring a moment.

She looked so much like her mom.

Though her hair was his own mother's, whom she was named after, and her eyes were Dean's, a startling green, her small nose and lips and heart-shaped face were all Lisa's. Dean stared at her for a moment longer before leaning forward and pressing a small kiss to her forehead. She gave a small, huffy sigh, and he smiled before closing the back door as gently as possible, walking around slowly and dragging himself into the driver's seat.

"_Don't call me 'baby' anymore."_

_Dean tried to keep the hurt from his eyes. He always called her baby._

"_What? Why?"_

_Lisa smiled widely, a hand spreading on her stomach._

"_I don't think our Baby would appreciate it."_

* * *

_Sam's face split into shock, and then a grin, and Jess shrieked._

"_Oh my god!" she exclaimed, embracing Lisa, who was near to tears._

"_Oh my god, man, congratulations!" Sam told him genuinely, grinning and patting him on the back. Bobby couldn't even hold in a smile._

"_Good job, boy."_

_If anyone had seen the tears in Dean's eyes, no one mentioned them._

* * *

"_Mr. and Mrs. Winchester?"_

_From where he sat holding Lisa's hand, they both looked up to see the dark nurse holding something bundled in a pink sheet._

"_I'd like you to meet your baby."_

_Lisa covered a hand with her mouth, tears streaming down her eyes as she stared down at the sleeping baby._

"_Oh my god…"_

_Dean pressed a kiss to her temple._

"_She's beautiful."_

* * *

"_Dean, get in here!"  
Dean immediately dropped the dishes and bolted into the living room._

"_What?! Where—" he dropped his defensive pose and stared. Lisa looked at him over her shoulder, teary eyed._

"_She's… here, baby, walk to Daddy. Walk to Daddy, honey."_

_The small toddler, a patch of hay-blonde hair on her head, smiled up at her Daddy before staring at her feet. Carefully, she placed one ahead of the other at a slight angle, chubby hands held out precariously in the air to balance her. She put another foot ahead of the other and wobbled a bit. Dean crouched, watching her, and she grinned before shuffling forward hurriedly. She moved too fast and began to fall forward, but Dean caught her easily under the arms and lifted her up, standing._

"_That was fantastic, baby," Dean whispered, smiling at the grinning baby through the tears pricking his eyes, "That was so good." The girl gave a hiccupped giggle and wrapped her small arms around his neck as Lisa stood, wiping away her tears. Dean wrapped his free arm around her and brought her close, kissing her on the forehead. She smiled up at him._

"_I love you."_

_Dean smiled._

"_I love you, too."_

* * *

_A harsh ring erupted next to his ear and Dean bolted, and dread immediately set in his stomach as he grabbed the phone. The bed was empty. He answered it before looking at the ID and Sam yelled in his ear._

"_Dean! Hurry, there's been an accident, the police are everywhere, Ellen's fine but Lisa's been hurt—"_

"_I'll be there."_

_Dean rushed about his room, jumping into sweats and a shirt. Small footsteps alerted him of a presence and two-year old Mary waddled into his room, rubbing her eyes with a small fist._

"_Dada?"_

_Dean kneeled down and gathered Mary into his arms._

"_Come on, baby, we've got to go."_

_Dean got out of the car, slamming the door after telling Mary to stay put. Police were everywhere, flashing lights and rain surrounding him. He could just see Ellen's car beyond the police tape and he shoved forward, ignoring the calls of his name that were probably from Sam._

"_Sir, stop, you can't come any closer."_

"_Let me through!" Dean shouted, shoving at him, his eyes catching a glimpse of an ambulance and a stretcher with an unmoving body on it._

"_Sir—"_

"_Let me through!" A white sheet was pulled over dark hair, and Dean felt a sob tear his throat, uncaring, shoving at the two policemen holding him, "That's my wife! That's my wife—"_

* * *

A horn slammed in his ears and Dean jolted the brakes as someone passed in front of him, flipping him off through their window. Dean's heart jumped to his throat and unbuckled his seat belt, turning around.

"Mary?! Are you alright?"

Mary muttered something and shifted back against her chair, a bit of drool sliding down the corner of her mouth. Dean gave a sigh and slumped back in his seat, pressing his head back against the headrest. A curse past his lips. He tried not to hit the steering wheel in frustration, not wanting to wake Mary.

Slowly he opened his eyes to look at his hands. They were shaking. He carefully clenched and unclenched them, a few times, harder each time. Finally, they settled to a faint vibrate and Dean placed his seatbelt back on before beginning again, slower, and shoving all thoughts other than getting them home safely from his mind.

Once they arrived, Dean took an extra moment before unfolding himself from the car and walking around, lifting Mary out of her seat, who was still deeply sleeping. He slung the backpack over his other shoulder and fiddled with the keys before eventually making it into their house. It was a small house, but nice—mediocre to the ones that were around, but Dean didn't care.

He shuffled through the kitchen and living room and into the hallway where both of their rooms and the guest bathroom was. Dean, thankfully, had his own bathroom—which seemed a little too big since it wasn't cluttered with makeup and flat irons and—

Dean felt his way into Mary's room, not risking turning on the light. He let his feet glide in front of him, brushing any toys out of the way, until he made it to the bed. Dean carefully placed Mary on top of the covers, peeling off her tiny shoes and socks and clothes down to her underwear. He then shuffled through the drawers and found her pajamas, and quickly and quietly slipped these on her tiny body, earning a few grunts from the girl.

Dean then tugged the covers from underneath her and settled them over her, grabbing a small stuffed monkey and placing it in Mary's hands, which she immediately latched onto. He gave a small, relieved sigh and pressed a kiss to her forehead, smoothing back her hair.

"Goodnight, baby," he whispered.

Cracking the door to her room, he crept down the hall until he reached his room at the very end. Dean closed the door a crack and thankfully shed his clothing down to his boxers, tossing them into the hamper before crawling into his side of the bed. The other side was made, and Dean faced away from it, closing his eyes to feel that hand caress his back, onto his shoulder, and hear whispers in his ear. Dean swallowed and shoved them away, pulling the covers tight to himself.

Yep. Just another day.

* * *

**~Until Next Time**


	2. Chapter 2

**Writing hard, more to come**

* * *

"Daddy. Daddyyy. Daddy! Daaa-ddy!"

Dean groaned as he rolled over, earning a shriek from the small body he'd trapped under his back. He peeked over his shoulder as Mary giggled, showing a row of tiny white teeth.

"Da-ddy!" she giggled, gasping for breath. Dean grinned and sat up, pulling Mary easily into his lap. She immediately began to stand, placing her chubby hands on her hips.

"Daddy!" she scolded, her brows furrowing and her small lips pursing. Dean chuckled a little. Her blonde hair was tangled near her neck and stuck up in a variety of places, and her cheeks were still stained red from sleep.

"Hey baby, why're you up before me?" he asked softly, steadying her by placing his hands on her small not-quite-yet hips. Her tiny hands sat atop his and she grinned proudly.

"Uncle Sammy taught me to set my clock so I's set it early so we can has breakfast!" she exclaimed. Dean chuckled.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah!"

"And what do you want for breakfast?" he teased. She bounced on her heels, almost toppling over as she raised a hand, pointing towards the ceiling.

"Pancakes!"

Dean laughed at the expected response and tickled Mary's sides, gaining a shriek of laughter.

"Alright, baby. Go wash up, I'll be out there in a second."

Mary made an exclamation of joy and he set her down on the floor, and she immediately bolted from his grasp out the door. Dean chuckled after her and stood, smile turning into a grimace as all of his muscles sung in pain. As his bones protested, he moved about the room, slipping into ripped jeans and a t-shirt, grabbing his keys and cell-phone and slipping them into his pocket.

The alarm went off beside the table and Dean slapped it off before taking one last glance around, eyes lingering on the other side of the bed, before exiting the room.

In the kitchen, he found Mary sitting on her stool, bouncing up and down. He smiled and opened the pantry, looking around for the ingredients.

"What d'you want to do today?" he called over his shoulder, taking up the box of batter in his hand and setting it on the counter before moving to the fridge, carefully filing out the eggs, milk, etc.

"Park!"

Dean shook his head as he shut the fridge, setting out the ingredients on the table in front of Mary.

"We went to the park yesterday, and the day before," he reminded her.

"Park!" Mary insisted, grinning. Dean smiled and shook his head again.

"Well, alright, then. I guess we can go for a couple hours…"

"Yay!"

Dean smiled a bit and grabbed the box of pancake patter to feel it was suspiciously light. Peeking into the box confirmed his suspicions, and he set the box down, looking at Mary seriously. Her eyes widened at him.

"We're out of pancake mix," he told her seriously. She gasped, her mouth a perfect 'o'.

"What'll we do?!" she cried, slapping her hands to her cheeks like in the movies. Dean pretended to be in deep concentration, before his eyes lit up, and he held up a finger. Mary held her breath as he dug out the keys from his pocket and held them up, as if they were something holy. Mary marveled.

"To the store?" Dean questioned. Mary jumped, sticking a finger into the air victoriously.

"To the store!" she roared. She slipped down from the stool and landed on wobbly two feet, before she recovered and charged towards the door. Dean laughed to see that she only had one shoe on, and no socks. He intercepted her and scooped her up, receiving a shriek in protest.

"First, we have to get dressed. Then we can go."

Mary huffed and crossed her arms, but when Dean let her down, she obediently charged back into her room. After a few seconds she came bolting out, and Dean laughed, opening the front door for her.

"Slow down, there, Speedy Gonzales."

Mary simply grinned up at him and took off towards the car. Dean shut and locked the front door behind him and helped Mary into her seat, buckling her in as she wriggled impatiently.

Dean pulled up to the grocery store and Mary was already unbuckling herself, trying to open the door, which was locked. He laughed and went around her side, lifting her out of the seat and shutting the door.

"Stay close to me, baby," Dean told her lowly, conspiringly, "This is a super-secret mission. Don't let anyone know about it. Ok?"

Mary's emerald eyes widened and she nodded, placing a finger to small wet lips. Dean took her hand and led her inside, down the isles purposefully. Despite Dean's warning, something caught Mary's eye and her hand slipped out of his and she trotted away. Dean watched her out of the corner of his eye, making sure she didn't leave the isle, before turning to contemplate the pancake batters on the shelves.

None of them really made a difference to either of them. Batter was batter. Dean's eyes searched for the cheapest, and grabbed it, turning to tell Mary he'd found it. The isle was empty. Dean's heart surged and he began down the isle when he heard a shriek, and he turned into a run, sharply turning the corner. He almost tripped over his own feet when he came to a stop, and he marveled at the scene before him.

Mary was sitting on the floor, her lips moving and forming words from an open book in her hands which Dean recognized as Green Eggs and Ham by Dr Seuss. Next to her, looking very uncomfortable was the blue-eyed trench coat man from yesterday, Castiel.

He sat a fair distance away from Mary, his hands in his lap, glancing around nervously. Every time he tried to inch away, Mary would giggle and scoot closer, so that soon it was a game, and she wasn't even focusing on reading the book any more. Castiel's blue eyes flickered up and caught sight of Dean and widened. He immediately stood, straightening his trench coat and stepping away from Mary.

"Dean Winchester," he breathed, looking slightly bashful. Dean glanced at his daughter, who looked up and smiled brightly at him.

"Daddy, the angel was reading with me!"

"I am not an angel," Castiel assured her, before turning to Dean, still looking meek.

"I apologize," he spoke lowly, "She… wanted to read to me. She's very persistent… I'm sorry."

Dean observed the guy. Usually he'd deck someone that came into a one foot radius of Mary—and warning bells were in his head that this was the second time they'd run into this guy in as many days—but something about this guy seemed… genuine.

"She can be pushy sometimes," Dean admitted, shrugging. Castiel smiled a bit.

"I did not expect to see you again so soon," Castiel told him, and hurried on, "I promise, I just came here to buy milk, I can shop somewhere else if you wish—"

Dean saw the carton of milk clutched painfully hard in Castiel's hand and shook his head, stopping him mid-sentence.

"It's alright, man," he told him, smiling a bit, "I believe you. Honestly, I think it's all her fault." They both looked down at Mary as she gave a shriek of protest, and Dean smiled as Castiel chuckled.

"Daddy, can we take the angel home with us?" Mary pleaded.

Dean froze and Castiel went rigid, the silence awkward. Dean glanced at him and turned to Mary with a forced smile.

"No, baby, we can't. Say goodbye, we're leaving soon."

Mary pouted and turned to Castiel, who looked down at her. The five year old walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his leg, burying her face in his slacks.

"I don't wanna," she mumbled.

"Mary," Dean warned.

She huffed, her eyes filling with tears, and she looked up at Castiel for guidance. Castiel shifted awkwardly.

"I have… angel things to do," he told her awkwardly, "You should go with your father."

Mary sniffed a bit.

"So… you're going up to Heaven?"

Castiel hesitated before nodding.

"I suppose."

Mary's eyes widened.

"Have you seen my mommy up there?"

"Mary—" Dean protested.

"She got hurt real bad and Uncle Sammy said she went to Heaven with the angels," Mary explained on, "So have you met my mommy?" Cas's blue eyes softened and he kneeled, causing Mary to let go of his leg, and he was careful not to touch her.

"No, I haven't met your mother," Cas told her softly, "But she must have been beautiful like you. And maybe you'll see her one day." Mary sniffed.

"You promise?"

Castiel hesitated, and glanced up at Dean, meeting his eyes.

"Maybe you both will."

Mary nodded a little.

"Ok…" she said in a small voice, and before Castiel could protest, she threw her arms around his neck in a hug, and quickly let go, walking back over to her daddy. Castiel straightened to see Dean watching his little girl, but when he looked up, Castiel could see the tears at the edge of his reddened eyes.

"Come on," Dean ordered Mary and turned away. She peeked at Castiel over her shoulder and waved to him. He gave a small wave back before they disappeared around the corner.

On the way to the car, Mary was silent. She could feel the emotions rolling off of her father, though she didn't know what they were; she just knew that she should stay quiet.

When they were making breakfast, Mary peeked at her daddy from under her bangs.

"Daddy?"

"What?" he snapped. Mary flinched, and her eyes filled with tears. Dean halted and his eyes softened, cursing himself.

"Sh, sh, I'm sorry baby, I didn't mean it, Daddy's just being a jerk," he murmured, wiping her tears away and cradling her face in his hands, "What is it, baby?"

Mary sniffed.

"Are you mad at the angel man?"

Dean paused.

"No, baby," he lied, pulling away. Mary sniffed.

"Are… are you mad at me?" she asked, eyes filling once again. Dean softened and moved around the counter, gathering her into his arms. He shushed her as she buried her face in his shoulder, and he soothed her hair.

"No, baby, of course not."

"You're not… mad at me for talking about Mommy?"

Dean stiffened a bit, but he continued to soothe Mary.

"No, baby, no," he cooed, stroking her hair, "Daddy's not mad at you. I can't get mad at you, you know that. Let's just eat, huh? You want some syrup on your pancakes?"

"Yeah!"

With Mary satisfied and distracted again, Dean began finishing breakfast, answering the questions that were asked automatically, while his mind was somewhere else completely.

* * *

Dean was still fuming throughout their time at the park, and Mary didn't say anything, simply giving him a small pat on the knee before rushing off towards the jungle gym. Dean relaxed on the bench, watching her, silently pissed off. He received a text from Sam asking how he was doing, but he ignored it.

Sammy was his baby brother, damnit. Dean was supposed to be checking up on _him._ Thankfully, there was no sign of the trench coat, and Dean left early, much to Mary's disappointment. Again, though, she stayed silent, strangely acute for a little girl, and gave her Daddy an extra tight hug when he dropped her off at Sammy's.

Once she was inside, and Sam turned to Dean.

"What happened?"

Dean looked away.

"Nothing, Sammy."

Sam gave him a condescending look.

"Dean…"

"I said nothing, Sammy," Dean snapped.

Sam sighed.

"Fine. Text me when you get off."

"Fine."

Dean left. The car was empty now, so on the drive to the garage, Dean didn't bother to try to cover up the scowl still on his face. When he pulled up to the garage, Jo was working on a car, Bobby nowhere to be seen. Jo looked up when he got out of the car, immediately seeing his face and sighed.

"I'm guessing you don't want to talk about it," she deadpanned. Dean searched through the tools.

"Hand me that wrench."

Jo handed it to him with a sigh and a lingering glance.

"You can't keep blowing up, you know. I'd thought you'd gotten better."

"Shut up, Jo."

She glared at him, slamming a tool down.

"Dean," she started, "You need to stop doing this. Mary—"

"Shut up!" Dean shouted, spinning around, eyes blazing, "You don't know Mary! You don't know what's best for her. I'm her father. Not any of you. I don't need any help! You don't know her, or me! Hell, you barely knew Lisa! So just leave it alone!"

That was a low blow. Jo had known Lisa for about two years, since her and her mother moved into town shortly after Dean and Lisa became engaged. Jo and Ellen, her mother, had known the Winchesters since they were little. Ellen had been in the crash with Lisa, and had walked away with only a couple of stitches.

Jo clenched her fists. Her eyes watered.

"Go to hell, Dean," she bit out, and slammed past him into the garage's office. Dean rubbed his eyes and got back to work in silence. There was no sign of Jo or Bobby, and Dean was allowed to work in peace until well past lunch.

That was when a small blue car pulled up and Dean turned as the door opened. Dean immediately became rigid and turned away as the man approached him, hands deep in his trench coat pockets.

It was silent for a moment.

"What're you doing here?" Dean huffed, not turning towards him.

"You said I could come by some time. Something about a discount?" the tone was slightly teasing, but Dean wasn't in the mood.

"Yeah, well I've revoked the offer," Dean snarled over his shoulder.

It was quiet for another moment.

"I—"

Dean whipped around finally, glaring into Castiel's eyes.

"Get the hell outta here, man," Dean growled, "You have no right to be here."

Castiel frowned at him.

"Mr. Winchester—"

"Don't call me that," Dean warned.

"Dean," Castiel admonished, staring at him, "I didn't mean to upset you earlier—"

"Oh yeah?" Dean interrupted, wiping his oil stained hands before tossing the dirty rag on the bench, stepping towards Castiel.

"Well, you did. You had no right to talk to my girl, or talk about her mother, who you didn't even know!" Dean shouted, pointing an accusing finger.

Castiel ducked his head.

"I know, Dean, and I apologize—"

"I don't think you do know," Dean snarled, "You don't know shit about losing people. You know what? Stay away from me, and my kid. And burn that fucking dumb ass trench coat before—"

Dean's back slammed against the wall, his head snapping back painfully as he saw spots. He blinked them away and held in a groan. A forearm was pressed against his chest, constricting his breath, and blue eyes glared at him, inches away. What little breath Dean had left caught in his throat as the smell of mint and coffee brushed his lips, and those blazing eyes bore into him angrily.

"You listen to me, Dean Winchester," Castiel growled lowly, sending a shock down Dean's spine, "I apologized for what I did, and I did not know your wife nor the loss you suffered, but don't you dare for a second begin to think you are the only one who knows about loss. You can't imagine what I've been through any more than the other way around. So get your head on straight, Winchester. I am not a pedophile, I am not a killer, but I will hurt you if you ever imply that I don't know anything about losing the ones you love."

Dean couldn't tear his eyes away from Castiel's, and when Castiel paused, Dean wondered for a moment if he was going to kiss him. Instead, Castiel shoved back from him, turned, and walked away.

Dean swallowed and pushed himself off the wall, glancing at Castiel's retreating back and turning towards his tool bench. Just then the office door opened. Jo stared at him and raised a hand, pointing.

"Dean, don't you dare let that man walk out of here," Jo ordered.

Dean glanced behind him, but didn't move.

"Dean," Jo raised her voice, "He is the first person I've seen hand your ass to you on a silver platter, now you go and chase him and beg for his number!"

Dean's jaw clenched even as his neck heated up.

"No."

Jo groaned and threw her hands up in the air.

"You know what, I'll fucking do it."

Before she could even storm out Dean caught her by the arm, pulling her back.

"No," he ordered. Jo glared at him and yanked her arm away, crossing her arms. She stared at him until he finally met her eyes. He sighed.

"What?"

Jo clenched her jaw, her eyes narrowing.

"You know exactly what. You try to even deny all that sex that just happened I'll cut your fucking toes off with shears."

Dean sighed.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Too bad."

Dean looked away, his heart pounding.

"Jo," he begged. She softened a bit.

"I just want you to move on, Dean," she told him softly, "We all do."

"I know, but I can't," he whispered, forcing those tears in his eyes back, "And even if I… He probably doesn't even like guys."

Jo let out a harsh laugh.

"Oh, god, you can't be that blind, Dean," she replied, shaking her head with a grin, "I could tell he was hard for you the second he walked in here."

Dean flushed, which made Jo smile.

"What the hell are you still doin' here, boy?"

They both turned to see Bobby, staring at Dean like he was crazy.

"Go out there and get 'im!"

Dean swallowed nervously and glanced out the small window. The blue car was gone. Dean's shoulders slumped in what should have been relief, but a small edge of disappointment settled in his chest.

"He's already gone," Dean grumbled, ignoring their glances, "I probably won't see him again."

"Bullshit," Jo stated, and both Dean and Bobby looked at her in surprise. Jo smirked and raised her phone in the air.

"Sam told me everything that happened," Jo told him, "He walks through the park almost every day. So get your ass to the park."

"He wasn't there today," Dean tried.

Jo rolled her eyes.

"You guys shop at the same market," Jo shot back, "No excuses, Dean. Get you some."

She laughed at her own sentence as Dean's face burned and Bobby chuckled, shaking his head.

"Alright, that's enough," Bobby cut in, picking up a wrench, "Let's get this thing done with."

Dean picked his tools up gratefully, and Jo gave one last snicker before disappearing once again. Dean pushed the idea of romance and blue eyes into the back of his head as he drifted back in to the study hum of clinking metal and sweat.

* * *

When Sam opens the door, Mary is standing beside him, her backpack strung on her shoulders.

"Daddy," she mumbles sleepily, stepping forward and almost falling over with a yawn. Dean picks her up, cradling her, and sends a questioning look to Sam, who shrugs, eyes soft.

"She wanted to wait up for you."

Dean turned to the girl in his arms, whose eyes were already drifting shut, her head rested on her father's shoulder.

"That true, baby?"

She nodded sleepily, and Dean turned back to his brother.

"Thanks, Sammy."

Sam nodded, and hesitated.

"I know you probably don't want to talk about it, but Jo called me today—"

"Not now, Sammy," Dean chastised tiredly, "Later, alright? Just… not right now."

Sam nodded a little in surprise and acceptance.

"Alright, Dean," he said, attempting a light tone, "Goodnight. Hope you two sleep good tonight."

Dean tossed a similar sentiment back before the door shut quietly and Dean was walking back to the car. As he strapped Mary into her seat, the little girl struggled to keep her eyes open, emerald gems peeking from under heavy lids.

"Why'd you stay up so late, baby?" Dean asked softly.

"Wanted… to make sure Daddy wasn't mad," Mary murmured sleepily, scrubbing at one of her eyes wish the heel of a chubby hand, "at me or… the angel."

Dean swallowed.

"I'm not mad, baby," he whispered, smoothing her hair back and planting a firm kiss on her forehead.

"Now get some sleep," he murmured, finished buckling her in, "We'll be back home in no time." Mary nodded sleepily, her eyes finally falling shut all the way. Dean shut the door as quietly as he could and made his way to the driver's side, lifting himself into the car and pulling away.

As he drove, deep in thought, a sigh came from the back seat.

"Don't want… Daddy to be lonely," Mary muttered, half-asleep by now, "Want Daddy… to be happy…"

Her voice faded. Dean's grip tightened on the steering wheel as he glanced at the back seat in the mirror. No more sounds or words came from behind him and he began to relax. His mind drifted back to the events of the day, and his heart clenched at Mary's words.

Everyone just wanted the best for him. Even Mary was starting to notice. Dean squeezed his hands together. Maybe Bobby was right. Maybe a new face would do her some good. Do both of them some good. Dean bit his lip, mind turning back to Castiel. Maybe… maybe he could give this whole 'new person' thing a shot… for Mary.

* * *

**Until next time~**

**Leave a review if you wish :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello!~ Thank you for the reviews :3 if you have any suggestions or anything you would like to see go ahead and ask :) Thank you for reading... Things will pick up soon, I promise :P**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Dean's hands were sweating. Fucking butterflies were in his stomach. His hands were vibrating, and he felt sick. This was a bad idea. Mary kept glancing at him from where she was playing, noticing her Daddy was acting different but unsure why or what she could do to help him. Dean's eyes searched the playground, sweeping over the entire thing every few minutes or so. They'd been here almost an hour already, but Dean hadn't calmed down. What if he didn't show up? What if he held his promise, and decided to take a different route?

An hour and a half there, and Dean was starting to believe that he wouldn't show up, when suddenly, the flash of a trench coat caught his eye. Dean swallowed and stood. Here goes nothing.

"Hey!"

Castiel didn't notice him until he was a few feet away, almost walking by him with his suitcase, before Dean caught onto his sleeve. Green eyes met blue, and Castiel's eyes narrowed.

Dean wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and shifted.

"Hey, Cas… Castiel, right?"

"Dean Winchester," came the low response.

Dean took a deep breath.

"Ok… Look, Cas—Castiel…"

Castiel's blue eyes stared at him, tilting his head in wait.

"Er… just… I'm sorry. About yesterday," Dean forced out, feeling his pride start to fray.

Castiel's eyes dropped. It was silent for a moment.

"You know, Dean…" Castiel began, and Dean flinched, waiting for the insult, the punch, the rejection, "you should not feel guilty. I understand your reaction."

Dean blinked in surprise.

"No, man," Dean protested, taking a step closer, "I was a jerk. You coulda just decked me or something, I probably deserved it."

Castiel smiled a little, and Dean smiled in response. It was quiet again, and Dean's stomach squirmed.

"So… I was… um… just wondering…" God damnit, he was stuttering like a teenage girl, and Castiel was staring at him, and damnit, those sea-blue eyes were doing something to him…

Castiel smiled and spoke, finally taking mercy.

"Dean, if you want my number, you can just ask."

Dean's eyebrows shot up, and for a moment Castiel's smile faltered, before a huge grin spread on Dean's lips and he rubbed the back of his neck.

"I'm that obvious, huh?"

Castiel laughed, his shoulders relaxing.

"I hoped that I wasn't being too obvious," Castiel admitted. Dean laughed, shaking his head.

"Coulda fooled me. I thought for a second you were going to whip out some angel mojo and smite my ass."

Castiel laughed, hard, surprising the both of them, but in a very good way. Dean grinned proudly.

"So, is that a yes?" he asked hopefully. Castiel smiled and held out a hand, beckoning with his fingers. Dean dug into his pocket, fumbling a bit, and brought out his phone. He reached and set it into Castiel's open palm, when their fingers brushed.

This simple touch sent an electric spark down Dean's spine and the phone slipped from his fingertips. Thankfully, Castiel caught it and began clicking like nothing had happened. Dean blushed and shifted as Castiel clicked intently on his phone. After a few moments he raised his head and smiled, holding the phone back out towards him. Dean took it back, braced this time for the shock that came from the touch of Castiel's fingertips. Seriously, how long had it been since he'd even held someone's hand other than Mary's?

"I don't have my phone with me, I left it at home," Castiel explained, small smile still in place, "Just call or text me so that I have your number."

"Will do," Dean grinned.

"Daddy!"

Saving them from an awkward silence, the two men both turned to see Mary charging towards them, grinning, tangled blond hair whipping behind her.

"The angel came back!" she shouted, running straight into Castiel's legs and latching on. Castiel glanced at Dean for direction, so when Dean laughed, he smiled and patted Mary on the head.

"His name is Castiel, sweetheart," Dean told her. She blinked her large green eyes and looked up at Castiel for confirmation. When he nodded, she scrunched her nose up.

"Castle… Castel… Casty!" she finalized, nodding. Castiel laughed.

"That's fine," he assured her.

Dean smiled fondly and held out a hand to Mary.

"Come on, baby, leave Cas alone."

Mary reluctantly let go of Castiel's leg and hooked her tiny fingers around two of Dean's. Dean looked up at Castiel, who blinked at him in surprise, and he grinned.

"I'll see you later, then?"

Castiel smiled a little, and then it grew as he nodded.

"Yes. Goodbye, Dean."

Dean grinned and nodded.

"Bye angel-Casty!" Mary shouted as they began to move away, drawing a laugh from both of the men. They exchanged last minute waves before Dean and Mary turned fully and Castiel continued on his way. Mary stared up at him as she bounced to keep up with him, and Dean smiled.

"What is it, baby?"

Mary shrugged her shoulders exaggeratedly.

"You look happy, Daddy," Mary stated.

Dean's smile tightened.

"Oh yeah?"

Mary nodded.

"Yeah. I like it!" she announced.

Dean forced out a laugh.

"Oh really?"

"Uh huh!"

"You ready to go to Uncle Sammy's, baby?" Dean distracted.

"Yeah!" she shouted, and thankfully they continued on with Mary's inconsistent babble of things that mostly didn't make sense. But they caused Dean to relax slightly, and they were able to get into the car in one piece.

* * *

When the door to Sam's house opened, Mary shrieked and ran in, giving a hug to his calf before running inside, most likely to seek out their cat, Crowley. It was a nasty little thing, but absolutely adored Mary.

Dean handed Sam Mary's backpack and Sam took it before raising an eyebrow.

"Everything alright?"

Dean nodded a bit, leaning against the doorway. Sam's eyebrow rose even higher.

"Something on your mind, Dean?"

Dean was busy going through his phone, and for a moment Sam believed he was going to continue ignoring him before Dean raised the phone to show him the screen. Dean looked away as Sam squinted at the phone, reading the name 'Castiel' under contacts, followed by a full-digit number.

Both of Sam's eyebrows shot up and his jaw unhinged.

"Dude!" he exclaimed, mouth spreading into a huge grin, eyes lighting up, "How the hell did you swing that? I thought the dude was pissed at you?"

Dean shrugged, clicking the screen off and shoving the phone back into his pocket.

"We just kinda… got over it," he shrugged, and then looked his brother in the eye, pointing an accusing finger, "And you and Jo better stop talking behind my back, or I swear—"

Sam laughed.

"Yeah, whatever. So you gonna call him?"

Dean hesitated, scratching at the cement with the tip of his boot.

"I dunno, man… he said to just call him or something so he'd have my number, because he left his somewhere, but…"

Sam laughed again, shaking his head, and Dean gave him a confused glance.

"Dude, you can't be that out of it," Sam started, shaking his head again when Dean just deepened his frowned, "He totally did that on purpose, to give you a reason to call him."

Dean paused.

"…You think?"

"For sure," Sam nodded confidently.

Dean was silent, and then sighed.

"Alright. Well, I've gotta get to the shop. I'll text you when I get off."

Sam nodded.

"Ok. And call him!"

Dean waved over his shoulder as he walked away, and he could practically hear Sam rolling his eyes before the door shut behind him.

Dean walked into a knowing smirk from Jo, and he raised an accusing finger.

"Shut up," he said, not unkindly. She simply laughed and they got to work, Bobby muttering something that sounded like "idjit girls" under his breath.

The rest of the day went by slowly. Everything kept Dean's hands and mind pretty busy, so only after tossing a goodbye to Jo and Bobby and driving towards Sam's did thoughts of Castiel begin to invade his mind.

* * *

Dean nibbled on his bottom lip as he pulled into Sam's driveway and cut the ignition. He sat there for a moment before pulling his phone out of his pocket. At the top of the contacts list, his thumb hovered for a moment.

_Castiel Novak._

It hadn't occurred to him until now that Dean hadn't known the guy's last name. Dean licked his lips, and after a tense second he pressed close and shoved the phone back into his pocket, hopping out of the car. When he knocked on the door, a few moments passed before it opened and this time it was Jess, the beautiful blonde Sam had finally married after seven years of dating, cradling a snoozing Mary to her chest.

She smiled as Dean lifted Mary gently into his arms, where she snuggled into his chest.

"Thanks, Jess," Dean muttered. Jess smiled kindly.

"No problem, Dean," she whispered back, "You two have a good night."

Dean nodded and tossed the same back before they left.

* * *

The room was cold and quiet. Mary had been asleep for hours, only becoming conscious long enough for a "goodnight". Her dad sat forward on the edge of the couch, toes of mud- covered boots resting mutually on the edge of a thick maroon colored carpet. Hard skin on the flip side of a wide thumbnail was caught in between harsh, white teeth, whose jacket corners were dragged down by an unseen force.

The same force seemed to be pressing eyebrows down over intense green jewels, waving like unsure waters in the sea as they set on the small metal contraption seated on the stained coffee table before them. The screen had dulled, and Dean released his thumb to click it again, illuminating the small patch of air around it.

On it sat Castiel's number, staring back at him with a similar curiosity to its owner. Dean nibbled on his thumb again. In his mind, he once again checked off the mental list he'd comprised of the pros and cons of calling Cas:

Pros? They could be friends, at the least. There couldn't be too much bad that came out of being around new people. Also, Mary liked him; it might be good for her, too.

Calling him would most likely shut up Sam and Jo for a bit.

And… Dean liked him, if he was being honest. He was different. And he seemed to actually like Dean. _For now, _Dean thought, _before he gets to know me._ That brought on the cons. Dean's brain hesitated a moment.

Well… Cas could turn out to be a jerk. Dean doubted it, but it was possible. Even if he wasn't, there was no way Cas would be able to handle all of Dean's baggage.

Dean's heart dropped unexpectedly into his stomach. It was so true. Once Cas got a peek into Dean's fucked up life, he'd turn tail in a second. Not to mention what Lisa would think…

Dean shot to his feet, grabbing the phone and clicking End in seconds. He breathed for a second before he rubbed his eyes, ignoring the prickling sensation behind his eyelids. He retired to his room, placing the phone on his bedside table. Dean crawled under the covers, lying on his side, facing the smooth pillow beside him. After a painful second, he shifted around, facing the wall, and slowly closed his eyes.

* * *

**Things will pick up soon, I promise~ Soon, darlings... soon... *giggles evilly* have a nice night/day :)**

**Until next time!~**


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